Brad Widelock
Brad Widelock
So, the tennis pro at the local racquet club asked me to pour some wines for folks to enjoy while watching the French Open. It’s a good deal they buy the wine, I pour and provide the patter. Sometimes I pick up a customer. Members also bring libations of their own to enjoy poolside. Last night there were about thirty people in attendance when a woman walks up to me dressed in tennis garb holding a battery powered corkscrew and a bottle of wine with a mangled top. The volley begins.
The woman explains that her friends couldn’t get the corkscrew to work.
I point out that the bottle has a screw cap.
She says “There’s a cork under the screw cap.”
I say “Pass me the bottle.”
She does, and tries to hand me the corkscrew, which I politely decline.
She looks confused and concerned.
I proceed to open the bottle using a bar rag. When I pass it back to her, she says “Oh” and walks away.
What a match
The woman explains that her friends couldn’t get the corkscrew to work.
I point out that the bottle has a screw cap.
She says “There’s a cork under the screw cap.”
I say “Pass me the bottle.”
She does, and tries to hand me the corkscrew, which I politely decline.
She looks confused and concerned.
I proceed to open the bottle using a bar rag. When I pass it back to her, she says “Oh” and walks away.
What a match